


Relinquish

by Arterius_Rising



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: (mostly) mute guardian, After Battle Sex, F/M, PWP, Sensual Play, battle adrenaline, kinky cloak (I didn't realise cloaks could be kinky), shaxx without his helmet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arterius_Rising/pseuds/Arterius_Rising
Summary: ...Allow yourself to let go, Guardian...After a spectacular crucible event, Shaxx discovers the Guardian who had captivated his attention during the matches alone in the tower, while most others are at the celebration.Unable to help himself, the Lord of the Crucible approaches her.





	Relinquish

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’ve been totally obsessed with the new Forsaken story line, and new content grind so fingers crossed this is a turnabout for Destiny, who hasn’t always had the best track record. (Grimoire lore aside)  
> A/N/N: I just about managed to stop myself using the phrase: popped his super… heh. 
> 
> Question: If you’ve got time to leave a comment, let me know what class you use! 
> 
> Song: Playing with Fire - Sam Tinnesz

While he enjoyed the blood rush which came with the battle, Shaxx wasn’t one to involve himself in the aftermath revelries. He left that up to the other Guardians. They were rather good at it, having little to no concern over alcohol poisoning, or accidental death.

Finding himself on a near empty Tower wasn’t unusual for the time. Only the cleaners remained, and a few members of staff who were uninterested in the sport the crucible offered. He did not blame them; it was not for everyone, nor a place for the faint hearted.

The Vanguard themselves had once thought it a senseless use of their Light gift. He could see the larger picture, the comradeship it created, and the inspiration it caused in those who did not possess the Light. He believed the bravery to fight, even when faced with defeat, was not something to be taken lightly.

Rounding the corner to his balcony work station, Shaxx was surprised to find he was not alone. He recognised her instantly. Saladin’s youngest wolf. The Guardian in white and gold; Phoenix, they called her. At one time for her bright red hair he supposed, but she had taken the name and become its meaning with her own fire. 

Her helmet which spit void light from its centre rested on the railing, tucked beneath her hands. Halting for a brief moment, Shaxx chose to reach up and remove his own helmet with a click. He had become somewhat of a mystery, as rumours flew about his appearance. While he paid them little heed, he appreciated the lack of people around who might find entertainment in gawking at his uncovered features.

“I didn’t expect to find you here, Guardian.”

He came to stand by her shoulder, more than a head taller than the legendary Hunter. Peering down at her, he didn’t miss her gun metal eyes give his face a once over. He found he didn’t mind. Revealed to her was his angled face, weathered from battle. Shaxx knew he owned a wide jaw, a grizzled nose and sandy blonde hair; shaved short in the back, with choppy locks on the top.

His eyes, those were a blue the colour of the sky on Earth. Crow’s feet appeared around them when he smiled, which was more often than people would have thought. Seeing her fight in the crucible for instance, that left him with a lingering grin and heated skin. He had yet to see another with her skill for the Void; her shot was deadly, and her arrows even deadlier.

He recalled her preference for remaining silent, and sought to fill in the need for her to speak by taking her answers from body language alone.

“You fought brilliantly in the last batch of matches,” he added, watching her with a smile on his face. He would not say she was delicate, for the person who presumed her weak on her size alone would be very foolish, and most likely soon to be deceased fool.

Her returned smile, and brief nod was her acceptance of his compliment. Her armour was scorched, and there was stains of rust and dirt along her jaw. His eyes were drawn to it, along with the beating pulse at her throat. The high of battle took some time to come down from, and he could still see the spark of it in her eyes.

His face heated at the memory of her, swift and precise. He did not find death thrilling, only the constant strive to fight on. The skill in which the Guardians moved; evident in every action, every dodge, every well placed shot. They had earnt their titles, through horrors and war. Each one was a shining beacon, and he wished for the world to see it.

He enjoyed watching her, above many others.

When one of the cleaning robots dropped a box they had lifted, she jolted and her helmet slipped from her grasp. It tumbled to the metal below, clanking loudly. She was on edge, each sudden sound a reminder of gunfire. He could not say her reaction as entirely from the crucible, for she had been a Guardian for a long time, and faced many foes not even he couldn’t fathom; Hero of the Battle of Twilight Gap he was.

Both stooping to retrieve it, their hands caught on one another. Crouched as they were, Shaxx was able to see more closely into her eyes; finding the dark rimmed with a lighter ring of grey. Unbidden, his gaze slipped to her full lips. There was a recent cut in the corner, though it wouldn’t scar. He exhaled a breath, and in the next her mouth was upon his.

As in war, he didn’t think twice. Her helmet forgotten, he stood with her shoulders in hand, bringing her with him. Tilting her head to the side, he deepened the kiss; his stubble rough against her chin. Blood thumping, he couldn’t quite recall how long he’d wanted to taste her Light, her _fire._

Hearing footsteps, he quickly ushered her till her back was to the railings. In his armour, Shaxx was so tall and wide, he blocked out her frame to any onlookers. Observing over his shoulder, he waited until the worker had collected their data pad and left, before he looked down at the Guardian against his chest.

She raised a brow, lips slightly sore from the abrasions of his harsh skin.

“They’re gone,” he told her, in a way of explanation. His hand moved along the railing to take hers. After a moment, he spoke again, "In all this time, I do not think you have truly let go.” At her questioning gaze, he continued. “There is a lot of expectation on your shoulders. Do you ever really give away your control?”

He allowed her to think on it, but eventually she shook her head slowly. Her pupils expanded, and his hand tightened upon hers.

“Will you relinquish your burdens to me, for a short time?”

A breathless nod, and what she lacked in speech, she made up for in action. Her fingers dragged through his cropped hair, and along the fur which decorated his polished armour. As much as he craved her touch, Shaxx wanted all the attention to be on her. She needed a release from the adrenaline from his crucible.

Turning her so that the front of her hips were braced on the railing, Shaxx pressed himself close to her back. Should anyone pass, he was satisfied they were mostly hidden. He didn’t want to ponder what his long-time _friend_ Zavala would think of what he was about to do on the tower balcony, but he couldn’t find the sense to care. 

Collecting her hair away from her neck, he pecked and nibbled from her rust stained jaw to the sensitive spot behind her ear. He could taste the metal rust on her skin. So much of her was covered by armour, and was difficult to work around, but he had never been one to shy away from a challenge.

He’d held the former Tower with only six Guardians, and their Ghosts.

Trailing his hand down the front of her body, he skimmed her chest piece and allowed his palm to come to the apex of her tights. Her trousers were tight, formed around muscled tights. When he applied the right amount of pressure, she arched her back and exhaled, head throw back against his shoulder.

Forming a rhythm while kneading her hip, he used her breaths and clenching fingers to gauge when to push, and when to draw out her pleasure. He was captivated, so much so that the entire Vanguard fire-team could have been standing behind him, and he still would have been solely focussed on her.

He clenched his teeth, to block out his own need throbbing in time with his palm against her warm centre. Knocking her feet wider with his own, he was able to draw his fingers along the seam of her trousers. Right over the most sensitive of her flesh. She choked on a gasp, and squeezed his hand on her hip hard enough to leave little marks. Drawing out her orgasm, she spasmed, and stretched forward for relief of his pleasurable machinations.

Regaining her breath, he grunted when her rear rubbed at his own strained need. She glanced over her shoulder, heat still within her gaze.

“This was for you,” he whispered, voice rough.

She grasped his hand which still rested on her hip, and gave it another squeeze.

“Please.”

That single word gifted to him would be his undoing.

They shouldn’t, not where they were, but he couldn’t deny her. Not when he wanted to so badly.

It was easy enough to slip down her trousers, and he to open the front of his. They were both covered enough that their _coupling_ wouldn’t be immediately obvious. It was when he came to entwine with her, that Shaxx realised her cloak was in the way. Made from fine turquoise thread from the Dreaming City, he twisted the end around his first, and moved it to the side.

The first touch of bare skin, and he was lost.

Grasping her hip to secure her, Shaxx took deep and shallow thrusts. Long strokes, which sent them both mad. She pressed back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust. His blood had caught fire, and his minds eye flashed with the last of her matches her had seen. The way she _owned_ the battlefield.

His rhythm stuttered when he felt his peek rising. He would not go over the edge without her. A deep groan left his throat, and that combined with a twist of his hips, and she soared. Shaxx, more undisciplined than he thought himself, fell with her.

Plunges growing slower, he laid his front along her back. His breath skittered down the side of her neck. They could only spare a moment, still connected and sated before he stepped away from her. Remaining close to shield her from view, he released her cloak.

Rearranging himself, Shaxx knelt to pick up her helmet. With it in hand, he came to stand by her side. She offered him a satiate smile, one he echoed. His pulse still feathered at his neck, and while he felt as if he’d taken enemy fire doing such a private act in public, his mind was clear.

But like all good things, they must come to an end.

Her Ghost appeared, shimmering to life behind them.

“Cayde wanted to know why you weren’t at the party,” it stated. “I _told_ him I wasn’t created to bring you messages, but he insisted. You know how Cayde is.”

She smirked. Shaxx had known in the back of his mind it wouldn’t have been long before her Vanguard leader found her, in some sort of way. The two were thick as thieves, and the Hunter exo wouldn’t miss out on a chance to get the _newbies_ drunk on alcohol, and exaggerated tales. He was only pleased he’d possessed some of her time, short as it was.

When he offered her the helmet in his grasp, he brushed her fingers over his. He understood it for what it meant. Wrapping her hair up, she placed her helmet back on. Where her expressional face had once been, was replaced by volatile void light.  

The new bearers of Light would either be in awe, or terrified. Most likely both, simultaneously.

Leaving with her Ghost, Shaxx watched till the tips of her cloak disappeared from view. It was then he understood the meaning of playing with fire. She’d left a mark on him, one he would have to live with. For like a moth to a flame, the Lord of the Crucible wanted more of her time.

 

 


End file.
